Blossoming Hate

Chapter 7: Fractured Perceptions

Iris's pov

I stand in the street, watching Xavier ride off into the night, the roar of his motorcycle fading into the distance. My arms are crossed tightly over my chest, frustration twisting through me. The cool night air stings against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the irritation bubbling inside.

"Asshole," I mutter under my breath. I don't know if I'm more annoyed at him or myself. He always knows how to get under my skin, deflecting with that cocky smile like nothing ever touches him. But something was different tonight-that moment when he mentioned his Nana. That look in his eyes, soft and vulnerable, like the guy he tries so hard to hide. It's the first time I've seen a crack in his armor.

I shake my head, trying to brush it off as I head back inside, but the memory lingers, gnawing at me.

The house feels empty when I get back, just the faint hum of the fridge in the background. I collapse onto the couch, pulling my laptop onto my lap. The project outline stares back at me, mocking me with how much work we still have to do. We're supposed to be partners, and yet Xavier makes it feel like we're in two different worlds.

The fact that he even showed up today is a shock in itself. Maybe he's not as lazy as I thought. That idea unsettles me, more than I'd like to admit. My perception of him keeps shifting, and I hate that I'm starting to wonder if there's more to him than the arrogant asshole who thinks calling me Cupcake is the height of humor.

I shove the laptop aside with a groan, rubbing my temples. "Why does he have to be so infuriating?"

Almost on cue, my phone buzzes. It's Harper.

Harper: "Sooo... how's detention with Mr. Bad Boy going? Spill."

A smile tugs at my lips despite the frustration still simmering inside me. Harper's always had a thing for the drama, especially when it comes to guys like Xavier. But how do I even explain it? It's confusing as hell, and I'm not even sure what I'm feeling myself.

I type back quickly, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Iris: "Detention's fine. We're working on the project. Typical Xavier. That's all."

Her response is instant.

Harper: "Oh come on, there's gotta be more! Spill, girl. What's it like working with him?"

I stare at the screen for a second, biting my lip. What is it like working with him? Frustrating. Infuriating. Confusing. But also... interesting. Like, the more I try to hate him, the more complicated he gets. I toss the phone aside, not in the mood to dive into that particular rabbit hole.

Instead, I grab my notebook and try to focus on the project. It's the only thing keeping me tethered to some semblance of normalcy. If I can just get this right, maybe I can drown out the noise in my head. But even as I scribble down ideas, my mind keeps drifting back to Xavier. Why did he mention his Nana like that? Why did it make him seem so... human?

---

The next day, I spot Xavier before school even starts, leaning casually against his locker like he's got the whole world at his feet. His head is tilted slightly, his dark hair falling over his eyes, but the moment our eyes meet, he gives me that signature smirk. It's like he knows exactly how to push my buttons.

My stomach twists in irritation, and I quickly look away, my heart betraying me with its sudden, annoying thud.

"You're doing that thing again," Harper teases, sidling up beside me. "You know, where you pretend not to care but your face says otherwise."

"Nothing's up," I snap back, too quickly, yanking my backpack over my shoulder. "He's just... difficult."

Harper raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Difficult in a 'bad boy you secretly want to punch but also maybe kiss' kind of way?"

I groan, swatting at her. "Stop. He's just... ugh. He makes everything harder than it needs to be."

Harper laughs, clearly enjoying this far more than she should, and we head to class. I try to focus on anything but him, but my thoughts keep circling back, no matter how hard I push them away. There's something about Xavier that I can't quite figure out, and it's driving me crazy.

---

By the time detention rolls around, I'm already mentally exhausted from trying to avoid thinking about him all day. Of course, as soon as I walk into the room, there he is, sprawled in his chair like he doesn't have a care in the world. His eyes flick up when I sit down, that damn smirk back on his face.

Mrs. Donovan assigns us more work on our project, leaving us alone to sort through it. The tension between us is thick-like we're both waiting for the other to crack first. But there's also this weird, unspoken understanding between us now, something we both seem reluctant to acknowledge.

I break the silence first. "If we're going to do this, we need to communicate better. None of that disappearing act crap, okay?"

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed lazily. "You're starting to sound like you care, Cupcake."

I glare at him, ignoring the heat creeping up my cheeks. "I care about my grade. Not you."

Xavier lets out a low chuckle, the sound surprisingly soft. The usual edge in his voice is gone, leaving something quieter in its place. For a brief moment, we just sit there, staring at each other in this strange, unexpected silence. And for the first time, I don't feel the need to fill it with anger or sarcasm.

But I can't shake the feeling that there's something more to him, something he's hiding. And for reasons I don't fully understand, I want to know what it is.